


You're No Better

by Fitzrove



Series: Seven Days to the Wolves [2]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Case Fic, Explicit Language, Gen, Not from any of the main characters though, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Peter Jakes Needs Respect Women Juice, Peter Jakes-centric, Police, Prostitution, Sequel, Slut Shaming, just society, kinda because it's not a fully fleshed out case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 23:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21044693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzrove/pseuds/Fitzrove
Summary: alternatively, "A Hit Dog Will Holler" or more colloquially "woof goes the dog that got hit by a log"Jakes goes to interview a prostitute for a case, and she doesn't particularly like his attitude. He gets back what he gives.This is set two days after "The Wild Night is Calling", and might not make much sense unless you read it first.





	You're No Better

Something didn’t seem right about the hooker. That’s what Morse kept saying from the moment she was let go from the station, after a very brief interrogation, and it didn’t take long for Thursday to side with him, too. It wasn’t something related to how she _ looked _ \- she was a perfectly good-looking bint, with a round face and bleached hair done up and long dark lashes made even more prominent with mascara - but rather how she _ was_. Not outright shifty, but talking as if she was steering a ship around some very big boulders and neglecting to point them out, even when questioned repeatedly.

To put it simply, she was driving the car where she wanted it to go, and everybody trying to make sense of the case was just along for the ride. Maybe there was some sort of rich and powerful client after all, someone who didn’t want his name to be known, and the bird was protecting him. They couldn’t have that, and eventually, even Peter had to agree.

The responsibility to go visit her and have a more informal talk had fallen on Peter - Morse was chasing after some loose end way across town in Cutteslowe, and Thursday wasn’t technically even involved in the investigation, having a much bigger case in his hands. Besides, Peter thought as he parked the car on the side of some small road off Ashhurst Way, she'd probably be more inclined to talk if the person she was talking to had some charm about them, instead of needle-sharp questions and even sharper eyes staring straight into her soul. Morse was very good at what he did, of course, but sometimes a different approach was needed.

Peter walked up the stairs to the first floor, listened for a bit - he definitely wouldn’t want to interrupt her, if she was in bed with a client - and then knocked on the door. It only took a second for her to open it.

“Wotcha, miss Teal. Sergeant Jakes, Oxford City Police”, Peter said. “Is it a bad time?”

“No, of course not”, the girl said, even though she was only wearing a bathrobe. Sort of over-the-top luxury-wise, if you asked Peter, since a glance over her shoulder revealed that her flat was pretty cramped. “Do come in.”

Peter did, and the girl closed the door behind him.

(What was her first name again? He’d read it in the case files, but couldn’t remember for the life of him, because all he could come up with was _ Nancy,_ and that wasn’t right.)

“What can I help you with?” the girl - _ Nellie, _ wasn’t it! - asked, crossing her arms and staring him down. She had an unsettlingly self-assured look on her face, almost as if _ she _ was the one in charge, not Peter, who was a bloody _ police detective_, badge and all, thank you very much. Peter cleared his throat.

“Just a couple of questions, miss”, Peter said, trying not to let his eyes wander down her legs. She had a very nice pair of those.

“Right”, Teal said, unimpressed. “We better sit down.”

And so they did, him on a kitchen chair she helpfully pulled out for him, her in a surprisingly plush armchair. Peter could tell she was considering lifting her legs to the armrest, but didn’t - probably the right call, because he could’ve technically arrested her for indecency if she went any further than the already _exposed _state she was in now. (Although she _was_, admittedly, in her own home. But Peter would’ve found a way if he’d wanted to.)

“Just to set the record straight”, Peter said, “I’d like you to tell me why you made such a drastic change to your usual routine on the night Mr Willis died. You’ve told us that you tend to be on the lookout for patrons in Park End Street from eight o’clock onwards, but on October 9th, you decided to stay home instead. And it just so happened that the bloke died that night, and we’ve found it’s got a rather strong link to a former customer of yours, a man named Beckley. Care to explain how such a coincidence came about?”

Teal stared at him, squinting a little, before pursing her lips.

“Well, it was cold that night”, Teal said. “Surely you understand that. It’s October, for crying out loud.”

“Your mink coat suggests otherwise”, Peter pointed out. “And you’ve been seen out on cold nights before, miss Teal. Try something else.”

Teal drew in a long breath, considering something, before putting her elbow up on the armrest and resting her chin on her hand. If Peter didn’t know better, he would’ve said she looked defeated.

“It was the full moon, sergeant.”

“And your point is…?” Peter asked, not quite following. Yeah, he remembered - he’d stayed at Morse’s, with a pile of Christie novels and several packs of table waters as usual, and he’d been very tempted to skip work the next morning and just stay and nap in Morse’s bed with him, but it hadn’t been an unusual night in any other way. Teal sighed.

“I couldn’t have possibly worked that night, sergeant, as much as I would’ve liked the money”, Teal said. “A girl’s got to pay her rent, after all.”

“But _ why _couldn’t you?” Peter asked. He could’ve sworn Teal almost rolled her eyes.

“Are you stupid, sergeant Jakes?” Teal asked, and that _ really _ got to him, even though it shouldn’t have. This was a random bint who was out selling herself almost every night, and yet she _ dared _to think she was better than him. Peter gritted his teeth and tried not to let his anger show.

“I’m not the one talking back at a police officer”, he snapped. “Just get to the point, will you.”

“It’s because I’m a werewolf”, Teal said.

Oh. _ Right_. Peter hadn’t thought of that.

Maybe it was because she’d managed to achieve such a close shave of her legs, honestly, because he wouldn’t have believed from looking at her. There wasn’t anything particularly fidgety about her either, nor the constantly-on-alert stare that Morse sometimes threw at him. Maybe Peter _ didn’t _believe her.

“Prove it”, Peter said, before he could think of anything else. The words just fell out of his mouth, even though he'd only thought of them for half a second, if not less. Teal crossed her arms and leaned forward in her chair.

“I really would’ve rather avoided it coming down to this”, she said. “But if you insist.”

“Sure”, Peter said. It wasn’t like she could turn into a huge dog on command, as it wasn’t the full moon right now, so he was perfectly safe and good. And he could take her in a fight, if she decided to do something extremely stupid. Then it would just be one more arrest related to the case, and probably just as useless as the one they’d already made.

“You do know that we have an excellent sense of smell, right?” Teal asked. Peter nodded, and tried not to think of how _ happy _ Morse had been last night, running his hands through Peter’s hair and kissing up his neck all over. Had got all cuddly, said he loved how Peter smelled, and honestly, Morse pretty much owed him that for the bite-marks under Peter’s collar.

“I’ve heard”, Peter said. “Must help in your profession.”

“... right”, Teal said, staring daggers at him by now. Good - if she didn’t want to play nice, Peter wouldn’t bother with it either. “It does really help sometimes, you know, to find out who’s been getting busy with who.”

“Maybe you should start up a gossip magazine on the side”, Peter quipped. Teal paid no attention to him.

“What I'm saying is that, if I were you, I wouldn’t talk crap about whores, sergeant. I can currently smell two distinct werewolves on you”, Teal said. “Not girls, either. And I bet it wasn’t that long ago.”

Peter almost choked in his own spit. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t _ act_, all he could think about was how bloody _ mortified _ he was at having something like _ that _ thrown at him. It was libel, it was defamation, it was probably also _ blasphemy,_ and the worst part of it all was that it was also the truth. God-fucking-damnit.

“You’re obviously mistaken, miss”, Peter barked out. “I will not stand for this sort of -”

“Let them on you barebacked, didn’t you?” Teal asked. “I’d say it was less than 48 hours ago. I’m pretty impressed, honestly. Even I haven’t gone that far as of yet, and I’ve been a working girl for three years now. And less than an hour apart, too? You really got lucky, didn’t you. Must’ve been very handsome, the two of them. I’m getting a little jealous.”

Peter flinched and buried his face in his hands. He felt a bit like crying, but he didn’t, instead just trying to hide the hell-hot warmth on his face and neck. It probably wasn’t working, since he could hear the girl let out an amused huff, then some shuffling as she crossed her legs and leaned back to admire her handiwork. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Do you believe me now, sergeant?” Teal asked. Peter didn’t say anything, because it would’ve probably come out as a scream instead. He drew in a long breath, before finally managing to unclench his hands from where he’d been gripping his face, and straightened his back. He had to deal with this somehow.

“Look, is it money that you want?” Peter said, reaching for his pocket. “I can -”

“I don’t see why that would be necessary”, Teal said. Peter shook his head.

“Please”, he said. “I can’t let this get out there. _ I can’t_. You must understand.”

“Believe me, I do”, Teal said. “Look. Unless you’d like to add a third wolf to your list, I've got no need for your money. I can keep things to myself.”

Peter sighed in relief. Teal wasn’t finished, though.

“Think of it as solidarity. One bitch to another”, she said under her breath. It wasn’t loud enough for Peter to deny it, or to make her face any consequences whatsoever, but it was enough to have him _ shaking _with the shame and anger of it all.

“Right”, Peter said. “I’m sorry for having bothered you, miss. Haven't got any further questions.”

“Glad to be of help”, Teal said, leaning back in her chair and _ smiling at him _like she’d won the lottery. “I live to please.”

Peter got up, not bothering to give her a polite goodbye, and made his way to the door. He had his hand on the handle when Teal spoke again.

“Oh, and one more thing, sergeant”, she called out. Peter turned to look at her, trying not to let her see how shaken up he still was, but she probably noticed it anyway. Could most likely smell fear with that werewolf nose of hers, the bloody whore.

“The scent should pass in a couple of days at most”, Teal said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t go looking for any more men before then. Don’t know about your two fellows, but werewolves can sometimes get a bit… possessive. It’s safer for you to wait a while.”

“Right”, Peter choked out, opened the door, and stumbled out of it. He slammed it shut behind himself a little too harshly, and the sound was left ringing in the stairway. At least it was loud enough to hide the noise his hurried steps made as he basically ran down the stairs.

When he got to the car and got its door shut, he collapsed on the driver’s seat and immediately scrambled for his lighter and a fag. He’d probably need to buy another pack on the way back. God knew he’d need a lot of smoke in his lungs to get through the rest of his day.

**Author's Note:**

> This sort of came out of nowhere, but bleached-blonde werewolf Nellie Teal is my new favourite original character. I do feel sorry for Peter, don't get me wrong, but sometimes a man like him deserves to be slut-shamed just a little.
> 
> Let me know what you thought if you want to!! I'm going to appreciate it a lot, especially since I know commenting on... oddly specific... fics isn't always very easy XD


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